


Huggers

by Maltezers23



Category: 2PM (Band)
Genre: Cuddling services, Mild Channuneo, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-10 18:42:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7856800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maltezers23/pseuds/Maltezers23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Huggers' who offer professional cuddling services are often frowned upon by the society, and Chansung shares their view on the matter. However, under uncanny circumstances, he is driven to attend cuddling sessions, his 'hugger' being his high school crush. Complicating matters, her father owns the business.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Unexpected Reunion

                                    

 

 

Dark clouds loomed lazily above the evening sky, casting shadows over the bustling narrow street filled with people, all of whom in the eyes of a sweaty young man, seemed hell-bent on  obstructing his path. They were moving at a painfully slow pace and were not bothered even if they made dangerously abrupt stops for the sake of anything that catches their attention. As though weaving a path through this oblivious sloth-like crowd was not punishment enough, it began to rain. Anyone with glasses, who is riding on a bicycle and has been caught in a downpour, would understand the plight of this terrible combination. Not only were you drenched, but the constant attack of pummeling raindrops towards unshaded eyes coupled with the splattering on your glasses make for extremely poor visibility. Chansung barely managed to avoid crashing into an excitable teenage girl who was backing towards the middle of the street in order to get a full-body shot of her friends via her cell phone, but failed to evade her open umbrella’s sharp rib tip. He winced at the sudden sharp pain over his eye, just a few millimetres beneath his right eyebrow, but paid it no heed and pedalled on as he had something more important to do. Right now, he has a frustrating doubt to be clarified, and an unforgivable crime to be investigated.

The accused: His little brother.

Chansung hailed from a family with a deplorable financial state, thanks to his irresponsible drunkard of a father who has been this way ever since his wife’s tragic passing. After completing high school, instead of pursuing college like a normal kid would, he was forced to take up multiple odd jobs to lay food on the table, and above everything else, to save up for his little brother’s education fund. Thus it comes as no surprise that he was internally fuming when while on one of his jobs, he had received word of his brother skipping school and spending most his time at Hagu’s. Only a hermit would not have heard of Hagu’s, as even the nerdiest of nerds would have caught wind of its existence in this small neighbourhood. _“Huggers”_ as the locals coin it, often consists of young ladies offering comforting cuddling services for a small sum of payment. What demarcates _huggers_ from hookers is that their services are purely non-sexual, though in the majority’s viewpoint, the line is often crossed. Chansung shared this point of view, and despite never having any experience with _huggers_ , he was pretty convinced there was more than just cuddling action beneath those sheets. A legalized gateway to prostitution, he scoffed. On top of that, it bothers him more that the human touch requires payment, rather than out of genuine care and concern. His blood boiled at the thought of his hard-earned savings being so casually wasted by his brother on these self-proclaimed healers of the soul. How he wished his brother would prove him wrong, and that his angst was for nought.

The rain, by now had reduced to a light drizzle. With his old faithful bicycle parked and bolted carefully to the nearest lamppost, Chansung, now soaked to the skin and his hair in a hopeless mess, trudged through the puddles of the near empty back lane except for a brightly lit structure that stood out like a sore thumb, made of poorly constructed metal frames draped with colourful opaque plastic sheets as substitute for roof and walls. He refused to allow himself to judge the patrons of this place, but to his observation on both men whom he had crossed paths with; having just left Hagu’s, they threw furtive glances, refused any form of eye contact and walked briskly away, far from anything an enlightened soul would do. With a deep breath, Chansung lifted the flap and bowed slightly to allow his tall frame through the entrance, and was immediately greeted by a familiar face, one that belongs to the first and only member of the opposite gender who had the ability to make his heart race.

* **

Gillian watched eagerly with bated breathe as her father shoved in mouthfuls of rice with unmatchable chopstick expertise and speed. _Why is he always in such a hurry anyway?_ She wondered.

Waiting patiently till the old man gulped down the last of the piping hot chicken soup that took her ages to prepare, she decided to prod again. “Erm…So?” She  raised her eyebrows expectantly for a reply that seem to take forever. To her dismay, he simply shrugged and said, “Well, the rice could definitely do with a few extra minutes, otherwise the soup and vegetables are fine.” She could not deny that she was extremely pleased by how well received her meal was by her father, who could be the harshest food critic at times, but would not accept that the main issue under discussion was being pathetically swept under the rug by such a menial matter such as the rating of her rice’s texture.

He carefully studied the frustrated look that her daughter failed to mask, took in a deep breathe and exhaled audibly. Gillian knew her father well enough to recognize that as a sign that he now meant business. “You know my rules. I won’t allow my daughter to work as a hugger.” “But dad, how else am I supposed to write my screenplay with no experience whatsoever about a hugger’s life?” she argued. “You don’t have to be one, do you? Can’t you interview Christy or Hyo Seong?” “As a matter of fact, I have. And they have been extremely helpful with the technicalities, but they aren’t as keen to share what they are feeling deep inside. Please, dad. You must understand how much this competition means to me. Plus, haven’t you always said that huggers are the healers of the soul?”

Her reasons were sound, there was no denying that. He found his own stubborn stand beginning to sway as he weighed the consequences. Being a hugger isn’t all that bad. Isn’t this why he built this establishment in the first place? To help people who lack the human touch open up and gain better understanding about themselves and their emotions? But could he really risk her daughter cuddling with some random guy, be he perverted or not? After all, there were zero unwanted incidences thus far at Hagu’s, not under his constant vigilant watch anyway. He always took care of the huggers as if they were his own daughters, and would spring to their rescue should any of the clients make any untoward moves. As though reading her father’s thoughts, she added hopefully, “And I know Taekwondo!” He gave up and finally resorted to what he knew best. He would leave it to a game of chance.

“How about a bet?” he asked. As soon as those words left his lips, his stomach instantly churned into a tight regrettable knot as he blamed himself for being such a terrible father, gambling the safety of his daughter. Gillian stood up straight and was all ears as her father tried to mend the damage with a bet he knew all too well was to his favour. “If the next person who walks through this door is handsome, and by that, I mean by my standards, you can be his hugger. Otherwise, consider the matter closed and don’t you ever bring up this issue again, do you understand, young lady?” She realized instantly that she was doomed. She understood that her father was not someone who value outer appearances, but was being cunning, in a protective way.  All these years, Hagu’s has never been visited by anyone remotely good-looking. Just as she stood up to protest, they could hear steady but cautious footsteps approaching. Like an unspoken cue between father and daughter, the timer in sealing the deal has begun ticking. He held up his right fist, thumb horizontal and signalled with his eyes for his daughter to decide fast. _Deal or no deal?_ The dilemma was strong. She knew the chances were against her, but if she did not take up his offer, then what of the little chance she had left? Buckling under the nerve-wrecking time pressure of the advancing footsteps, she hurriedly grabbed her father’s hand and turned it so that his thumb faced upwards towards the ceiling, just in time as the plastic flap was being lifted up.

* **

The nauseating tension of uncertainty began to wash away as a clumsy reunion between ex-schoolmates took over the atmosphere. Try as hard as she may, Gillian could not recall ever seeing Chansung being this attractive. Sure, they had shared the same classroom for almost half her school life and even attended the same Taekwondo lessons. And within that span of time, just like plenty of the girls at school, she had been guilty of stealing more than just glances at this mysterious hunk who loved to keep to himself and his books. She found him rather cute looking at that time, but was never as infatuated as her friends were. Floating rumours about him being a hot-headed loose wire that would snap at any point were sufficient to restraint her from developing any more feelings than she should.  

Now that he stood in front of her, soaking wet black shirt clinging onto his deliciously toned physique, accentuating his manly broad shoulders and well-defined abs, which used to be hidden under purposely oversized uniforms, her innards were tied in a complicated configuration. She found herself drawn into a pair of captivating huge brown eyes, partially veiled by tousled hair which served to amp up the appeal. Flushing crimson, she tore her eyes away and surveyed her father’s priceless reaction to this unexpected turn of events. His face was that of complete defeat and obvious contrite.

Chansung’s folded, wet pair of glasses suffered from a sudden heightened tension in its owner’s grip. “Gillian?” Chansung greeted in disbelief, the projection of his voice came out deeper than he intended. He was mad to find her here. Personally seeing her at Hagu’s, thus consolidating the cruel allegations that he had refused to believe, felt like a painful blow of betrayal.

“Hey, Chansung,” she replied, bursting into a bright smile. Just like that, the long buried feelings he thought was attributable to his immature raging hormones back then came rushing like a wave all over again. _Have some control, you idiot._

“Young man, how may I help you?” Gillian’s father asked with as much vigour as the dead rat she helped to rid the sewers off yesterday, bringing Chansung back to his senses. “I’m here to look for my brother.”

The old man’s spirits were jolted back to life.  _Oh, bless the heavens almighty. Now, this is an interesting revelation! He isn’t looking for a hugger!_ “I’m afraid I can’t help you with that. All our costumers’ records are confidential.”

“But please..umph!” Chansung’s words were muffled by a determined hand clamping his mouth shut, and before he knew what was happening, he was being dragged out of the shop into the chilly cool night air. Gillian stood on her toes as she whispered hurriedly into his ear, “You are looking for your brother, right? My dad will never betray any of his costumers’ trust.”

“Wait a minute. That guy’s your father?” Chansung asked.

“Yeah, and he owns this place,” she said, without the slightest bit of qualm.

He was torn in between a sense of disappointment and hopefulness. The truth about Gillian’s father being the owner of the place he had a great distaste for was a bitter pill to swallow, and yet, this revelation could be the key as to why she had been constantly spotted at Hagu’s which sparked rumours, he ardently hoped were false, of her being one of its workers. Still, those claims could not yet be nullified.

Gillian hurried on as if she had never been interrupted, “You’re going to need my help, but I’m going to need a favour from you.”

Chansung did not like the sound of this arrangement one bit. “Or, I could just barge into all the rooms and dig up that little rascal this instance. You’re welcome to help.” he said, easily dodging her defence. _Argh! This numbskull!_ Horrified by his plan, she pleaded, “Please, don’t! Imagine the ruckus that would make! I have a better solution. Just hear me out, will you?”

Deep down, he knew she was right. He too did not wish to create a scene. He paused in his tracks and decided to hear her out. “Alright, what’s your plan?”

Meanwhile, inside one of the tiny rooms, the frustrated owner of Hagu’s tipped off a scrawny looking young boy still clad in his school uniform, who was as quick as lightning in gathering his belongings and fleeing through a secret safety passageway. Having upheld his sworn duty of protecting his costumer, the old man hoped he was doing the right thing. He had thought of surrendering the poor kid to his brother and thus, getting rid of his daughter’s client for good, but succeeded in not succumbing to his inner demons. After all, the appearance of that Chansung boy instead of some half-baked conceited snob was already more than what he had bargained for. He had heard that he was an honest, diligent worker, and further reassured himself that if fate has had it that way, then he should try to avoid interfering too much.

* **

 

* * *

 

 **Hello, thanks for reading! Stay tuned for further chapters and I hope that you'll enjoy this story** (despite the odd pairing ^^;;;) **!**

 

"I can't~ forget your love~" -2PM

 

 


	2. At the Dojo

                               [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/23009590@N08/28909907020/in/dateposted-public/)

 

 

Battle cries thundered across the dojo in highly disciplined synchrony. The shouts of a group of students could be heard resonating through the walls and penetrating the relatively serene backyard to accompany the sounds of bamboo being chopped by two young men.

“You mean to say that your crush is offering herself to you?!” the son of the dojo master dropped the axe from his tired arms in astonishment. He could not believe his friend’s luck. “You lucky bastard!”

“Don’t put it that way. It sounds really wrong.” Chansung frowned, his fiery gaze fixed on the bamboo before splitting it with deadly precision. “It’s just harmless cuddling and chatting. I’m still considering though…” He was interrupted by a very exasperated Junho abandoning his post and leaping at him with a bamboo stick.

“You giant potato!” he scolded, prodding Chansung’s firm chest with the stick. “What’s there to consider? Just say yes!”

Chansung did not budge under Junho’s childish attacks. He allowed him a few more extra seconds of glory before finally catching the rod firmly between his palms and snatching it from Junho’s grasp. Chansung returned his friend’s favour by poking fervently at his perky butt. “Who’s the bigger potato? What did you do this time to deserve another punishment from your dad, huh?” Chansung already knew the answer to his question. They were chopping bamboo sticks under the sweltering heat of noon because Junho must have had retaliated when his father forced him to continue practising kendo in order to take over his legacy. He had always been keen in making music, which his father believed was just a fickle hobby which would eventually die off. Chansung, on the other hand, who was supposed to be enjoying his day-off, was somehow dragged into this pitiful picture thanks to his unwavering sense of brotherhood towards his smiley-eyed best friend. 

“Don’t change the subject, bro.” Without his weapon, he resorted to pummelling Chansung’s pectorals with his bare hands while failing miserably at protecting his bottom.

Chansung dropped his onslaught and said, “Junho, it’s not that simple. You know how I feel about huggers.”

The arm which was playful earlier now hung across Chansung’s shoulders in a serious manner. They were both close enough by now not to mind each other’s sweat. “Yes, I do. Huggers, to you, are like vile money-minded leeches that prey on people’s insecurities and loneliness. And to have your prim and proper Gil be associated as one of them is just too much for you to accept. But, Chan, look at this as a splendid opportunity to throw away that prejudice you have against huggers. Give her a chance, and most of all,” he gave Chansung a squeeze, “give yourself a chance.”

They were not best friends since childhood for nothing. Though he may be brash most of the time, when it comes to matters of the heart, Junho understood him inside out and was never frugal with his honest opinion and remarks. _Thank you, Nuneo-ah._

Curious as to what was running through that mind of his, Junho leaned in from the side to examine Chansung’s expression, and it was then that he noticed a gash in the groove below his eyebrow. “Did you cut yourself?” he asked. His face was wrinkled up in pure worry as he cleared Chansung’s fringe for a better view.

“Oh, it was nothing.” Chansung said as he craned his neck back to avoid breathing into Junho’s eyes. “Nuneo-ah, do you really have to get so close to my face?”

Instead of redrawing, an idea struck Junho as he grabbed the back of Chansung’s head and leaned in even closer. “Come here, you handsome potato!” he said as he playfully puckered his lips for a kiss. Chansung, who was resisting Junho’s sudden outburst of strength with immense difficulty, burst out laughing. He realized soon enough that it was a major mistake to go lax at such a dangerous proximity, as he felt a pair of lips pressed firmly on his flushing cheek. Junho, who was close to tears, shoved him away and wiped his mouth voraciously using the sleeves of his sweat-soaked T-shirt. “It’s all your fault!” he spat in disgust. “How is it my fault when it was you who wanted to kiss me?” Chansung retorted. Junho threw him a dirty look and muttered in self pity, “Oh, my virgin lips!” Chansung doubled up in mirth at the sight of his friend reeling from the pain he inflicted upon himself. His infectious laughter got Junho chuckling along as well until both their bellies ache.

* **

When the door to his measly apartment swung open with its distinctive creak, Chansung’s nostrils were greeted by an olfactory admixture of alcohol and rotting rubbish.  At least a dozen empty beer bottles decorated the living room floor, while another dozen lay in a dangerous heap next to the kitchen sink, which itself bore the brunt of a pile of dirty dishes. One quick check at the vacant spot on the shoe rack was enough for Chansung to tell that the man responsible for this mess was out. _All the better._ He was tired of telling his father off, tired of the heated arguments that would ensue, and tired of his unreasonable attitude. They had not spoken for ages and Chansung did not mind the silent treatment. As long as he kept his filthy hands safely away from his hard earned savings meant for Taesung’s education, he was content.

Chansung had moved into the worker’s hostel for almost two months, and would drop by his home on his days off. When both his father and brother were away, he would clean the house, do the laundry, clear the dishes and empty the rubbish. He never failed to leave a note on Taesung’s door, encouraging him to study well and to take care of his health. On certain days when Taesung was around, they would head out to the nearest park for a nice long jog and chat for a bit after. Chansung sometimes wished they were closer brothers, like how he was with Junho, because Taesung’s shell had always been hard for him to break, more so as of late. He wondered if it was attributable to their age gap, and to his very own silent nature. No matter what, he was determined not to let his little brother suffer his fate. Taesung would enter university and be a successful person; he would make sure of it.

That evening, Taesung was at home, but to Chansung’s bewilderment, kept himself locked in his room, refusing even to open the door when Chansung knocked.

“Tae, are you okay? Can you please open the door?” The only response Chansung received was an increase in the volume of the speakers emitting spiteful rock music from behind the door. He was taken aback by his conduct. _What’s happening to you, Taesung? Why are you acting like dad now?_ He was confused, frustrated and angry, and he needed answers. _Where were you yesterday when you were supposed to be at school_? _What’s this rumour of you visiting Hagu’s?_ _Why are you shutting me out now?_ _What have I done wrong?_

“I will not tolerate this. Open the door right now. I need to speak to you.” The little patience that he had was wearing thin when the door did not budge, but somehow, he managed to fight back the urge to kick it open. He took in a deep breath and when he exhaled, was much calmer and collected. He knew it was futile to push on further for now.

For the next hour or so, he laboured on with the household chores. _You are such an idiot. Let them rot if they want to. Why are you cleaning up the crap they left? Why can’t Taesung take responsibility for once?_ Junho’s naggings, frustratingly true and undeniable, were invading his conscience as he unloaded a week’s worth of laundry into the washing machine. Chansung knew he was right, but leaving behind family just because they are a dead weight seemed like a pretty crappy move.

He was about to pour the detergent when he caught a whiff of cheap perfume from amidst the scents of sweat and liquor from the clothes. The smell was strongest on Taesung’s school uniform, not on any of his father’s items like Chansung had expected, which was even more worrisome. _Has he finally gotten the girl of his dreams that he mentioned before? Or was he with a hugger?_

* **

Chansung typed the following message before sending it to Gillian:

[Alright, I accept your offer, but on one condition. if either one of us manages to confirm the truth of my brother, the cuddling sessions must end, alright?]

 

And this was the reply that came a few minutes later:

[Sure, that’s only fair. Deal’s on. Don’t worry. I’ll keep you updated as soon as I get any information. =) ]

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

**I'm sorry if this is irrelevant to the fanfic, but the way Junho looks at Chansung (or the flower garden...hehehe) is just adorable *sighs***

** **

Credit: Memoria

 


	3. Silent Connection

                               [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/23009590@N08/28909907020/in/dateposted-public/)

 

 

“He’s coming over any minute now, isn’t he?” Gillian’s father asked, bright eyes darting towards the clock for the umpteenth time that evening. He had been pacing the house in bathroom slippers, bobbing at his heels like a restless overgrown child.

“Yup,” she replied, stepping out from the washroom and wiping her bare feet dry on the floor mat. “How do I look?” she asked her father cheekily and then twirled around in a grey T-shirt at least two sizes too large and a pair of old cotton pants – her usual drab home clothes.

He beamed and gave her the two thumbs up. “Perfect. Now, have you informed him about the rules?”

Gillian nodded and smiled, “E-mailed already. Don’t worry, dad.”

At precisely eight, the bell rang and Gillian went to get the door. Chansung stood with a slight military poise, the posture he always acquired when he was feeling anxious, though of course, Gillian would not have known, but nonetheless found masculine and attractive. His hurried dash up the stairs was evident only by a light pant in his breath. His glorious locks of hair, still damp from the rushed shower he had taken after a day’s work at the hotel, made him look a hundred times hotter.

Polite greetings were exchanged before Chansung had the rules of Hagu’s presented to him again, this time in verbal form, with emphasis on crucial parts by a very protective father.

 

_“…there is to be no inappropriate touching or sexual advances.”_

 

_“Clients are advised to remain fully and decently clothed throughout the session.”_

 

_“Huggers have a right to terminate the session if deemed fit…”_

 

If at all, Chansung felt uneasy being dictated to like a would-be criminal, he did not show it, and Gillian was relieved. She smiled apologetically, and Chansung seemed to understand.

When they were finally left to their own privacy in Gillian’s bedroom, she spoke softly so that her father would not be able to listen even he was to press his prying ear to the door, which was exactly what he did. “I’m really sorry you have to deal with all that. And I hope you are alright with having our first session in my house. It’s his request.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” Chansung bit his lip while keeping his eyes glued to his toes. _Ah, so this giant has a shy side to him too._

“Have you…” Gillian threaded as carefully as she could, “…never been in a girl’s room?” Chansung was taken aback by her question, and he now directed his gaze at her “Why does it matter?” His eyebrows were raised in intrigue but easily mistook by Gillian as annoyance. _Oh, why do I have to own the fattest mouth on the planet? It’s none of my bloody business!_

“Nope, no, nada, nothing,” she said hurriedly, averting his eyes. “Shall we begin?”

“Okay, but where do I sit?” he asked.

“You mean lie?” Gillian said as she motioned for him to join her on her bed.

* **

She was right.

Chansung had never stepped foot into a girl’s room. How could he when he was never close to one? No doubt, he had his admirers. Some made it rather obvious that it would require a total dimwit not to have noticed, and Chansung was no fool, no matter how much he liked portraying himself as one as a means of escape. It was just that the idea of being in a relationship with a girl never once struck him. He used to question his sexual orientation back then, until Gillian came along.

She was different from the rest. While a great majority of pretty girls felt it necessary to flaunt their beauty, Gillian seemed to have given her looks zero hoots. She never wore make-up, even to the annual dance. When most heaved up their skirts to reveal groin-stirring creamy white thighs, she wore her pleated school skirt just like how the discipline teacher would have approved, below her knees. Her long luscious hair was never seen flowing over her shoulders as she always had it bundled into a tight bun.

Being next to her was like being riveted to the torture pole, not that he had any experience with one. He could feel every muscle in his body stiffen as Gillian gently laid her head on his chest while her trembling left arm rested over his tensed abs. The fact that she shared his hesitance and embarrassment puzzled him. _It’s not like this is her first time cuddling with a man, right?_ The mere thought of her lying with another was enough to stir a shit storm in his emotions. His heart thumped heavily within his rib cage and he was positive Gillian could hear every beat.

“Are you usually this uptight?” she asked.

“No, not really,” he croaked. _It ain’t normal if I’m not, would it? I’m no Casanova._ “How about you?”

“Wh…What do you mean? I’m fine.” Her small voice quivered, as she shifted uncomfortably on her spot. _She clearly isn’t._

“So, what do you usually do next?”

She paused in contemplation before tilting her head up so that her eyes met his. “I’ve actually never done this before.”

If a stomach could do a flip, Chansung was certain his just did.

“For real?”

“Yeah,” and Gillian proceeded with the story of the bet she had with her father, maintaining the crux, but out of shyness, omitted the part whereby being handsome had been the criteria Chansung had fulfilled. “So, you are my first. As to what we can do, you can tell me anything you want, or if you don’t, it’s totally fine as well.”

“Okay…”

Their first session was riled with uneasiness from both parties throughout. They barely spoke after that brief conversation. Chansung wondered if she regretted her decision now. Surely, she could have had any other man for her project, but instead, landed herself with a taciturn one. However, he welcomed the silence and, albeit clearly lacking of experience, her somewhat soothing touch. It had been a while since he felt connected to another soul, despite their relationship being akin to strangers.

Scanning the room, dimly-lit by a feeble table lamp because the one on the ceiling had ceased to be of service, he could not help but to notice not one, but two autographed posters of the same dashing looking young male flashing greasy smiles at the camera. In both occasions, he was wearing suits, one a leprechaun green while another, burgundy. _Who on earth is he?_

* **

Sleep did not come easy for Gillian that night. No doubt, Chansung had cordially dismissed himself hours ago, but he had stayed on in her mind, tormenting her from within. The harder she tried to shake him off her systems so that she could obtain her much needed shuteye, the more intrusive he became.

Still as quiet and solemn as ever, he had not steered far from the mysterious image she had of him. He possessed a certain charm that Gillian found difficult to resist, but could not quite lay a finger on. Perhaps it was the sense of security he gave. He had not laid his hands anywhere on her body throughout the session, and she had felt comfortable and relaxed in his presence, which was a rare feat for her considering the preconceived notions she had about men in general, partially imbued into her by her father.

Suddenly remembering a meet-up she was supposed to have that morning, Gillian groped in the dark for her clock without leaving her bed and brought its face close to her nose. She groaned internally when she registered that she had spent more than three hours past her usual bedtime musing over an ex-classmate whom she barely understood.

* **

 

 

 

 


	4. Meeting the Prodigious Mr Ok Taecyeon

                                                                   

 

 

Gillian had received an unexpected call from the organizer of the screenwriting competition she was participating in, claiming that an influential figure in the industry had taken an interest in her draft and had made arrangements for them to meet in person. Indeed, she was more than delighted about the whole prospect, but she still had her reservations about the credibility of such news, which she felt was too good to be true.

_Brrr…It’s too cold._ She was not only furious at herself for leaving home without her coat, but also angered by the long wait she had to endure. Heavily groggy due to sleep deprivation, her weary eyes swept across the grand hotel’s reception floor once again, while her posture began to slouch into the comfort of the couch. She had been waiting patiently at the Champs’ lounge area as instructed, keeping her eyes pealed for any sign of the enigmatic person’s arrival. _Either he or she has no sense of time, or I have been stood up._ _Oh well…_ Too drained of energy to even fret about it, she gradually dozed off into a deep slumber.

“Miss Gillian.” She was awoken by a deep, soothing male voice and a warm, reassuring hand over her left shoulder. When her eyes flickered open, she was convinced that she had not left the fantasy of her dream world because they had fallen upon the face of the man she had been admiring with such staunch devotion; she even had his autographed posters plastered on her bedroom wall.

_Ok Taecyeon, is it really you? Fancy seeing you here! I’m not dreaming, am I?_

“I’m sorry for being late. Have you taken your breakfast?”

She was not ready. She had yet to recover from the first blow and now this was too much for her weak little heart to handle. Her brain was finding it difficult to process the situation she was caught up in. _Ok Taecyeon, the prodigious screenwriter who was one of the most promising in the filmmaking industry, had his eyes on her writing and was the one she was supposed to meet today? Holy cow!_ Any ill feelings accumulated during the wait had vanished completely, replaced by insurmountable excitement.

“Yes, I have, Mr Ok. Thank you.” She was telling the truth but the biscuits she had shoved into her mouth this morning must have had been digested by now. The embarrassing sound of her empty stomach rumbling brought a knowing smile to her idol’s face. Taecyeon offered her an inviting hand and said, “Looks like your stomach disagrees. Let’s get it fed. I’m starving too.”  

Just when she was about to reach for his grasp, she was suddenly aware of the black bomber jacket that must have been draped over her shoulders by Taecyeon while she was fast asleep. Overwhelmed by a sense of gratitude, she smiled brightly as she removed the jacket and offered it back to him. “Thank you so much for your jacket.” As soon as the garment slid off her shoulders, she missed its warmth already. To Gillian’s puzzlement, instead of accepting the jacket, he frowned and then smiled politely, “I’m sorry, it’s not mine. I thought it was yours. It was here already before I came.” _Oh yes, silly me! Why would a man dressed this smartly in an expensive suit carry a bomber jacket around?_ _So who’s the kind soul then?_

Gillian was determined to return the jacket to its rightful owner, but she would have to defer this valuable mission to a more suitable time as she now had more pressing matters at hand, like dining with one of the industry’s most precious gems.

The Champ’s café was host to many wealthy patrons and boasted an impressive menu with delicacies of the finest quality. Naturally, the prices matched its ridiculously high standards; they made Gillian launch a panicky mental calculation as to how much cash she was carrying in her pocket. Taecyeon, who was quick to sense her plight, told her reassuringly that since he was well acquainted with the owner of this marvellous hotel, their orders were on the house.

Just when she thought the day could not have gotten any better, Taecyeon said, “Pardon me if I’m mistaken, but I’m pretty sure we’ve met before. Was it at the fan meet?” Gillian’s heart swelled with pride. “Yes, I’m surprise you actually remember! I’m a huge fan of your work, Mr Ok.” His eyes sparkled as he humbly waved a dismissive hand. “I got lucky, that’s all.”

He took a sip from the gold-rimmed porcelain cup and when he placed the cup back onto its saucer, his gaze was deep and penetrating with a tinge of forlorn, “Miss Gillian, you are no doubt, extremely talented. Your submission may have only been a rough work in progress, but it has already caught my attention, which is why I hate to see it go to waste.” “Do you mean to say that I don’t stand a chance in winning?” she asked worriedly, before adding in a whisper, “Is this competition rigged?” Her knuckles turned white when Taecyeon clarified her suspicion with a nod. “You are a smart girl. Between you and me, let’s just say that connections play a bigger part than talent alone. There’s nothing I could do about it. I’m only one among a huge panel of judges, and my say means very little among a blinded crowd. I hope you understand. I’m truly sorry.” Rage coursed through her veins at the thought of the injustice of it all, and the worst was the fact that despite them being aware of this malpractice, they were helpless. Nonetheless, being on the receptive end of one of the best screenwriters’ acknowledgement was consolation enough. “Please don’t apologize, Mr Ok. Believe it or not, I’m already very grateful to you for bringing this to my attention. At least now I know not to submit my completed script to those conniving hyenas.”

Taecyeon’s lips curved into a smile as he allowed his tall frame to relax backwards into the support of his chair. “That’s right, your script deserves better than that. And please, call me Taec.”

“Wow, Mr Ok, I… I simply can’t.”

“Remember, you are no longer just a fan. I’d like you to think of me as an equal. In fact, we can even have a collaboration. Now, if you aren’t tied down, would you like to spend the day with simple ol’ Taec?”

 

* **

The pat-down failed to reveal anything. And so, with impatient hands, Gillian proceeded to ransack the pockets.

_Gillian: Come, empty those pockets of yours!_

_Jacket: Don’t you dare get frisky with me, you witch. Leave me alone!_

_Gillian: Na-ah. You ain’t getting away without a full body search. I can do this all day._

_Jacket: Noooo~ It tickles! Stop, you mean woman!_

_Gillian: Then tell me, who sent you? I promise to spare you if you can lead me to your boss._

_Jacket: You can’t make me talk. *blows raspberries*_

The jacket, which now hung on a hanger behind Gillian’s bedroom door with all of its pockets turned out, did not seem to hold any useful information which allowed her to track down its owner. She had asked the people who had been around her if they had noticed anyone coming near her while she was asleep, hotel guests, receptionists, security guards, bell boys, but none had a clue. _That’s typical of society nowadays. Everyone’s either busy minding their own business, or devotedly absorbed in their electronic gadgets, no one gives a hoot about another’s affairs. Your owner being a rare exception,_ Gillian thought happily as she poked the jacket at a spot where the chest would have been. _And that heavenly angel, Taecyeon as well._

It did take some getting used to, but by the end of the day, she was quite sure that the wall she had built between a fan and her idol had been demolished, in a good way. Taec had proven himself to be extremely humble, caring and down-to-earth. _He’s simply perfect._

* **

 


	5. Beneath that Shirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She had caught Chansung unaware in the middle of unzipping his pants, his belt buckle undone.

                       [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/23009590@N08/28909907020/in/dateposted-public/)

 

 

Gillian was currently singing along to the eighth song on her phone’s play list with a voice loud and pitchy enough in order to compete with the sound of running water and scouring of the brush. She was delighted to be able to belt out her favourite number without a care whether she sounded Mariah-perfect or like a drowning cat, because the whole house was hers, at least for the time being. More than half an hour had past since she had stripped down to her underclothes for a bath before suddenly deciding to have the common bathroom scrubbed as well.

Now that her cleaning job was complete and out of the way, it was time for her to resume her original task at hand. Having disrobed fully, she stepped into the shower and allowed the cooling water to drench her skin before reaching for the shampoo. To her horror, the bottle was empty, and she had forgotten to replenish it. Muttering curses at her lack of memory, she wrapped a towel around herself hastily and stepped out into the walkway. Her father’s room was where she was headed, because that was where the stock for bathroom utilities was kept.

Knocking the door was the last action to have crossed Gillian’s mind since her father was not home, and most definitely something she direly wished she had done once the door was wide open. She had caught Chansung unaware in the middle of unzipping his pants, his belt buckle undone. What should have been followed by frantic apologies and a quick dismissal of her towel-clad self from this beyond comprehensible situation, Gillian instead found herself stunned and rooted to the spot, unable to move a muscle. His majestic hard, lean frame was a feast to the eyes as he stood gorgeously topless in front of her. His smooth, fair complexion was unblemished except for a long scar that ran across his back, and the sight of it jolted something in her memory, something which had frightened her so tremendously she had wiped that memory clean as a defence mechanism. She wondered if it was the result of the infamous fight in school he had been rumoured to be in. _None of it matters at the moment. What on earth is he doing half-naked in my father’s room, is the big question._   

Chansung was equally affected, because his instinct to cover up took a little longer to hit in as his hungry eyes lingered at the breathtaking beauty of Gillian’s wet look. As soon as he regained his senses, he made a lunge at his T-shirt and draped it across his chest in a desperate attempt to cover his exposed body, while his other hand held on firmly to the half-opened placket of his pants so that it would not slide dangerously further down south.

Before she could derive anything unwanted from this shocking turn of events, like mistaking him for an intruder or worse, a sex maniac, Chansung found it best to explain himself. “I’m sorry, Gillian. I met your father at the electrical shop downstairs, searching for parts to repair his fan, and so I offered to help him fix it. It’s functioning perfectly now. Anyway, I was sweating so much, I had to change before our cuddling session later, and your dad has been really kind to offer me his room. I don’t mean to scare you.”

“Ah… so that’s why you’re…” she made a gesture that swept from Chansung’s top to bottom absentmindedly, completing the sentence in her woozy mind … _half undressed and looking insanely handsome._ ”…here early.” She ended awkwardly after a guilty pause. “So, where is he?”

“He told me that he’s off to buy some drinks. He should be back anytime now.”

 _Great. I’d better get that shampoo and scuttle off before he comes back to find his daughter ogling shamelessly at a very attractive man wearing nothing but his pants, and worse yet, while still in her towel. He’ll be getting all sorts of funny ideas for sure._ Clutching at her towel for security, she walked cautiously towards the wardrobe, sticking close to the edge of the room as though she was making her way around a lion in an enclosure.  “Sorry to barge in on you like that. I just need to grab something quick and I’ll be off your hair in a jiffy. Let’s talk later, shall we?”

“Yes, of cour…” Chansung’s reply was interrupted by the distant sound of keys clanging followed by the main door unlocking. _Shit! Dad’s back!_ With the brand new bottle of shampoo in her grasp, she made a lightning speed dash out of the room, hoping to get back to the common bathroom before her father steps foot into the premise. The subsequent flow of events happened in such a flurry that one second, she had tripped, and the next, instead of smashing herself on the floor like she had braced for, she was wrapped in the protective embrace of a pair of strong arms. With her body firmly in contact with Chansung’s bare skin, an indescribable new found sensation stirred within her. Unbeknownst to Gillian, seeds of warmth and desire, along with increased self consciousness, had begun to grow their buds in her rapidly beating heart. “It’s alright. I got you.” Chansung whispered, his warm breath caressing the helix of her reddening ear, as he quickly supported her to her feet. The words that had escaped from his lips were swoon worthy heroic lines that she swore to include in her scriptwriting.

 Unfortunately, an attention-demanding clearing of the throat shattered the magic of the moment. Gillian’s father had bore witness to the scene, and his voice sounded like he was at the brink of exploding when he asked gruffly, “What’s going on?”

Once the two were fully clothed and the huge misunderstanding had been cleared, her father seemed to appear convinced that no hanky panky business had transpired between the two during his absence. His gaze had become less murderous and the probability of Chansung getting his neck broken had safely dwindled to a close zero.

“Alright then, you little rascals better be off with your official business. It’s getting late.” Gillian’s father motioned for her dismissal, but signalled for Chansung to stay for a while. “If you ever hurt my little girl…” he hissed warningly before making a violent snipping action with his fingers that could only indicate castration in such context. Chansung was rendered speechless. _What is he thinking? Why would I hurt her?_

“But, honestly, thank you for your help with the fan and lamp. Here’s a beer for you,” the old man said, handing Chansung a perspiring, chilled can from the grocery bag before patting him encouragingly in the back. “Go on in. Don’t keep her waiting.”

“Thanks, uncle.” He accepted the token of appreciation with both hands and left to knock on Gillian’s door.  

* **

Chansung knew that neither of the two thought it was wise to cuddle for that day. When he had entered the room, Gillian had anchored herself on her wooden study table, legs curled up as she hugged her knees to her chest. She had placed the chair meant for him at least two-arms length away from the table, and Chansung took it without further questions. Both of them arrived at an agreement that it was best to cool things down a little before initiating any form of skin contact.

“Chansung, is it okay if we just talk for this session?” she suggested meekly.

“That’s exactly what I have in mind as well,” he said, and he was glad that the lines of worry on her face had smoothened out.

Gillian released her knees and let her legs dangle from the table, acquiring a more relaxed posture. “So, received any death threats yet?”

“Nope, just the snip,” he said as he imitated her father’s violent gesture, causing her to burst into laughter.

Chansung smiled as he twirled the full can with his fingers. “Want to share this beer?” he offered, pulling the ring open before stretching out his arm in her direction.

“Sure, if you don’t mind.” She took the can from him before taking a swig of the cool drink, and then passed it back to him. Without hesitation, he held the brim of the can to his lips and sipped from it, only to blush seconds later at the thought of their indirect kiss.

“I’m just curious, why were you at the electrical shop? Something from your home broke?”

“Oh, that…” _Why is it so hot all of a sudden? It can’t be due to miserable sip of beer he just had._ Chansung cleared his throat before saying, “I couldn’t help but notice that your light wasn’t functioning the first time I came, and so I thought of fixing it for you. I’ve changed the ballast. Hopefully it works.”

“You did what?” Gillian’s lips parted in awe. She sprung to her legs to reach for the switch in two skips, and cried in excitement when the light flickered merrily to life. “Oh my, thank you so much! I’ve tried changing the tube and the starter, but nothing works. Thank you!”

 _Seeing her happy is one of the best rewards in life._ _Wait,_ _is it just her? No, I enjoy it equally when I can help other people too!_ “Don’t mention it.”  Now that they were both brightly illuminated, Chansung noticed a slight tinge of pink flushing her cheeks, and wondered if his were worse by the feel of the immense amount of heat radiating from his body.

Simultaneously, the jacket that hung behind the door caught his attention, and Gillian was quick to catch the drift. “Don’t tell me that’s yours,” she asked.

“Why, yes. I figured you’d be cold at the hotel,” he said.

She burst out, half in exasperation and half in admiration, “You could’ve left a note!”

“I’m meeting you anyway,” he replied as a matter-of- factly. 

“Ah, you don’t know how much trouble I’ve taken to find its owner! By the way, you aren’t stalking me, are you?” she asked as she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

He laughed dismissively. “Why would I? I work there.” Another gulp of beer disappeared down his throat before he spoke again, keeping his eyes on the can “Both of you seem…compatible.”

Gillian laughed as she narrowed their gap before taking the can away from him, forcing him to shift his attention somewhere else; the lamp on her table, the puppy stickers on her drawer, anything but her. “Thanks for the compliment!” she beamed shyly. “But we aren’t together. Aren’t you going to ask me who is he?”

 _Oh, okay… So, not together as in never going to be together or not yet together? And when girls ask you that kind of question, what exactly do they want from you?_ Chansung, being the frank guy he was, said nonchalantly, “I have no intention to, but, now that you’ve put it out this way, who is he?”

“Tada!” Gillian flapped her hand, throwing invisible confetti at the poster of Mr Greasy. She did not seem to mind the small splash of beer on her other hand as she went on excitedly about her idol. After Chansung had been forced to sit through what seemed to be the entire biography of Mr Greasy, Gillian looked flustered. “I’m sorry, all that must have been boring to you. I just can’t shut up once I get started about him. You have my permission to just tape my mouth the next time I do that, ok?”

 _Of course not! Not unless we’re into bondage and stuff. Oh, you pervert, what’s gotten into you? From the looks of it, she’s clearly taken!_ “He sounds like a really good man.” Chansung was glad that it came out sounding more sincere than bitter, though Gillian’s facial response to that was a bit difficult to read. Perhaps he had been over thinking, but Chansung thought he detected a brief look of hurt in her eyes underneath her cheerful smile. _Or is that just what I want to believe? Hey, after all, since when have you been a pro in reading women’s thoughts?_

* **

 

 

* * *

**Ok, this is random, but blonde Chansung is life!**

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/23009590@N08/29952528631/in/datetaken/)

Credit: cs_sprite

 

Credit: go_chansung


	6. Trepidation

                              [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/23009590@N08/28909907020/in/dateposted-public/)

 

 

The boiling hot coffee she had made earlier stood forgotten, now tepid, as her fingers clicked frantically away at the keyboard. The inspiration had come flooding today, and the words were being churned out in her hyperactive mind faster than she could type. She had never been bombarded with such a sweet rush before.

 _Finally, finally!_ Gillian threw her hands in the air and did a cute little celebratory jiggle with her shoulders as soon as she completed the script with a hugely gratifying: THE END.

 _Wait a minute…_ The wide grin was immediately wiped off her face as her heart sank at the realization that dawned on her. If Chansung had not agreed to the deal, she would not have had been able to experience, let alone perfectly capture, the complexity of emotions that whirled within a hugger while cuddling a stranger for this script. But now that the story had come to an end, she had yet to fulfill her sorry end of the bargain. _Oh, what should I do?_ She had tried every possible way she could think of, but her father had been exercising caution comparable to a top secret agent when it comes to protecting the identity of his clients. Her constant watch at Hagu’s for any sign of his brother had been fruitless as well.

The guilt of being inept was not the only reason for her dejection.

* **

Hyo Seong’s bright pink pixie cut hair popped out from behind the panel screen of Gillian’s bedroom, her slender index finger making a wriggling motion as an invitation for her friend to join her. Gillian, who was trapped in a circle of items reminiscent of her school days while in the midst of searching for her copy of the year book while waiting for the younger girl to change, said, “Come on out. Don’t be shy!”

Reluctantly, she stepped out from the shield of the screen and moaned, “But, Gill, I look fat!”

Tearing her attention away from the fascinating childish diary she had almost no recollection about keeping, Gillian could not understand how someone who has such a gorgeous figure possibly think they look fat. The black dress was a perfect fit on Hyo Seong.

“That’s utter nonsense! You look ravishing!”

“You really think so?” Hyo Seong asked.

“Positive.”

With Gillian’s strong affirmation, Hyo Seong was halfway there into acceptance. “I just want to look good for him. I hope he likes it…” she murmured to herself. 

“He’d be an idiot if he only likes you for your looks,” Gillian said before her lips were drawn into a smirk, “Who’s ‘he’ by the way?”

Looking flustered, yet eager to share, Hyo Seong plopped herself on the bed, hid her face with Gillian’s pillow and mumbled a name into it in a heavily muffled voice.

Grinning at her friend’s antics, Gillian teased, “Mphmphhhmm? That’s a fabulous name.”

Hyo Seong doubled over with laughter as she got out from the bed to kneel on a clear spot next to Gillian. “Have you found your year book yet?”

“Nope, I think it’s purposely hiding itself to save me the embarrassment. I don’t understand why you’re so eager to look at it.”

“Aww, come on…”

“Aha!! There you are!”

Gillian was secretly thrilled at the find despite her complaining about Hyo Seong’s unexpected request to view her schooling pictures. The year book had been barely touched since she left school. Having its pages open on her lap now, she was surprised she had not looked at it earlier. Buried bits and pieces from the past flooded back into clarity, the crazy moments with her friends, the terrifying bullies, the embarrassing Taekwondo lessons and… there he was, Chansung, the best fighter there was in the team, the cool, silent hunk almost every girl had a crush on. His precise spinning hook kick was suspended in motion on the photograph, scoring him admiring looks from the line of spectators in the background. _Oh,_ _Chansung…You were this close to success. Why’d you have to ruin your bright future by getting involved in brawls?_

Hyo Seong, who had been looking intently over her shoulders all these while, gave a cry of surprise when she saw the group photo of them in their white doboks. “I can’t believe both of you were in the same team!” 

“Who are you talking about?” Gillian asked.

“Him!” The tip of her finger blanched pale under the pressure as it pointed at none other than Chansung.

“You two know each other?” Somehow, Gillian had a hunch that ‘knowing each other’ must have been an understatement. “Don’t tell me he’s the one you’re meeting in this dress…”

“Boy, are you psychic or what? Yes!  Do you remember that night when you came to visit me at the hospital?”

“Ah huh, you told me you have been ambushed by a group of men, and thankfully for your saviour…” _Damn, Chansung. Why are you being such a hero to everyone and going about making people fall for you?_ “But what brought you two together again? I thought you failed to get his number.”

Hyo Seong clasped both her hands together and chirped, “You wouldn’t believe me. Even I couldn’t believe my luck. His little brother came to Hagu’s and I was his cuddler! It’s such a small world, right? I have yet to call him up to arrange a meeting, though. He probably wouldn’t even remember me, but YOLO, right?” The rest of her speech was drowned out as the words regarding Chansung’s brother echoed jarringly in Gillian’s mind. She was propelled to dig deeper, but decided against it in consideration for Hyo Seong. What transpired between a hugger and her client was confidential, and she should respect that.

* **

 

If it were not for Hyo Seong, Gillian’s feelings towards Chansung would have remained muddled. She would not have realized that she was capable of feeling such immense jealousy and heartache at the thought of him being with another woman, and so, she would not have discovered that her true first love had not been Taecyeon all along, but Chansung.

Once Hyo Seong had left, Gillian flipped her phone cover and slid her idle phone to live. She reread the message from Chansung and heaved a sigh as she recollected how ignorantly cool her response had been. Time works its wonders in ways no one can ever imagine, she realized. Just two weeks ago, she would have been perfectly fine with the cancellation of their cuddling sessions anytime. But now, a sense of bittersweet sadness tugged at her heartstrings at the thought of their agreement coming to an end.

Her fingers felt like lead as she stared blankly at the blinking cursor on the message bubble waiting to be filled.

_The sessions can go on if I were to feign ignorance, right? I don’t have to tell him about his brother right now, perhaps a later date will be better._

 The fleeting thought shocked even herself. _Preposterous! That’s selfish and dishonourable! Have you ever consider his feelings and thoughts about this matter? Are you sure he feels for you as much as you do for him? His sincere happiness for you when you mentioned Taecyeon shows that he’s clearly not interested in you, so why tie him down? Set the boy free if you truly care for him…_

* **

[Chansung, let’s meet up on Monday. I have something to tell you.]

[Sure. Everything alright?]

[ =) Yeah, I’m fine.]

[Ok, lake by Pillar Park at 7?]

[See you there. =) ]

_Men should learn never to trust a woman’s emojis completely…_

 

* * *

 

_ _

**_Chansung has a very unique way in showing his affection, which is really cute._ **

 

 


	7. The Feral

                          [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/23009590@N08/28909907020/in/dateposted-public/)

 

 

The bed he was now lying on must have had cradled many workers just like him to sleep, a logical assumption drawn from the fact that the metal framework was rusty and annoyingly creaky while the mattress had multiple stains on both its sides, of what, Chansung dared not imagine. One would naturally think that a hotel this luxurious would afford a better accommodation for its staff. Boy, were they wrong. Anyhow, Chansung was glad he had a job and a roof above his head, no matter how dingy, as long as he could keep his solitude.

Apart from the regular snoring of his chatty bunkmate, Wooyoung, midnight on weekends at the worker’s quarters was usually quiet. The anticipation of the massive amount of work which lies ahead was enough of a deterrent for any smart worker not on his or her night shift to party their recuperative hours away. Chansung knew all these, which was why he was frustrated when sleep avoided him. He had laid still in the dark for the past hour, eyes open but not actually seeing anything as his mind refused to shut up about his brother.

Earlier that afternoon, when he was having his quick lunch break, he had received a text message from Taesung.

[Brother, I hope you received the allowance you gave me. Please stop transferring money into my account from now on. I already have a job and just got my first pay check.]

Chansung had tried calling back, but all he could hear was the endless dial tone. He would have left a hundred miscalls if he were not on duty that evening. When he finally completed his shift, it was already ten. He called again, but was disconnected within two dial tones. Next, he had received a curt message which threw off any further attempts of talking things out with his brother for the day.

[Busy. Work.]

His phone, on normal days, would have been silenced and kept in the drawer he had shared with Wooyoung, along with his bunkmate’s camera and its accessories. However, it was placed beneath Chansung’s pillow tonight, because he had been half-expecting Taesung to call, and he was half-right. The caller ID flashed Baby Bro when his vibrating phone alerted him to full wakefulness.

“Hello,” Chansung whispered hurriedly into the phone, wishing not to wake anybody up from their deep slumber. After all, the room belonged not only to him and Wooyoung, but four other workers as well.

The opposite end of the line was filled with so much background noise, it was hard to decipher the shouts of the caller. “I’m…Taes..fwen! ..an..come…pick hi…up?” There was definitely more to what he had said, but that was about all Chansung could make sense of.

“It’s too noisy,” he whispered back in exasperation, but Taesung’s friend kept on talking in static. 

Chansung desperately wanted to get his message across, which would require him to speak louder than this. He would need to get out from this room. With the noisy phone sandwiched between his ear and shoulder, he climbed down from his bunk bed as silently as he could, but Wooyoung was already sitting up, though still in a daze. He was rubbing his eyes like a little baby as he caught the hem of Chansung’s shirt and tugged on it.

“Channie…was that an earthquake?” he asked. He looked so lost and hopelessly cute that Chansung could not help but chuckle. Cupping the mouthpiece of his phone shut, he said to Wooyoung, “No, sorry, it’s just my phone. Don’t worry, get back to bed. Goodnight.” After tucking his bunkmate to sleep, he dashed out into the corridor without making the slightest noise and spoke into the phone in his normal volume when he was convinced he was out of ears’ reach.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you that well. How about you text me instead?”

He must have heard him because the call ended and soon, a message arrived.

[I’m Taesung’s friend. He’s drunk and creating quite a scene here. I need to get him home but I can’t as I still have work to do. I’m sorry, I have no choice but to check his phone’s history, and I believe you are the elder brother he mentioned. Can you please come pick him up? We are at The Feral.]

_The Feral? Isn’t that a club? What work could an underage be doing at a place like that?_

[Alright, thanks. I’ll be there.]

Chansung returned to his room, threw on a pair of jeans and grabbed his keys before leaving.

As soon as he entered the elevator, he instinctively pressed the button for the basement car park for that was where his bicycle was kept. When the doors slid open, he was in such a hurry to dash out that he accidentally brushed against a tall, well-dressed man who was making his way in while talking on the phone.

Chansung immediately turned around to apologize but the man, clearly irritated, had boomed at him, “Hey, watch it!” This made Chansung click his tongue in annoyance. _Excuse me? Basic social manners 101, shouldn’t you have waited until the elevator was cleared of passengers before pushing your way in?_ Not wanting any trouble, he walked coolly away. He was sure the man did not pursue him because he was back on his phone, his voice faint from the distance Chansung had managed to keep between them with his lengthy strides. Still, Chansung could hear him say, “Hey, darling. No, no, I’m fine. I just got bumped into by an asshole. I’ll be up in a minute.” _Hah! You’re lucky this asshole has more important things at hand, or your nice little girlfriend will find herself with a panda for company tonight._ His face looked rather familiar, but Chansung had no time to launch a face recognition search in his memory database for now.

Ten strides away from his bicycle, realization hit him that he could not possibly carry a drunken man home on a two-wheeler. _Chansung, you idiot!_ He smacked his forehead in frustration before ringing up the cab.

    * **

Taesung’s friend, who was close enough to know he had an elder brother, yet not entirely close enough to know that he would have not wanted his brother to come, looked extremely relieved when Chansung took over his role as Taesung’s body support. He introduced himself as Nick and thanked Chansung profusely for coming to the rescue.

“I have to go in now. Can’t keep our clients waiting for too long.”

“Clients?” Chansung asked, steadying an alcohol-intoxicated mumbling mess with ease.

Nick ruffled his hair before edging closer to Chansung. “Rich ladies looking for company, if you know what I mean.” He gave him a wink before disappearing into The Feral. _Oh, shit. Taesung’s friend is a male escort?_   

The cab ride home was short, but it had given Chansung enough time to piece together Taesung’s initially incoherent mumblings.

He was proud of himself for being able to earn his own money even though he had to serve wealthy ladies old enough to be his mother, proud to be independent and becoming less of a burden to Chansung. Tears pooled in Chansung’s eyes when he heard Taesung saying he hated yet loved him. He hated the fact that his elder brother excelled in everything, leaving him trailing behind his smoke of unsurpassable glory and always having to live under his shadow. He hated that Chansung had so much faith in him, that he had felt pressured by him to score well in order to pursue higher education. He hated that Chansung had to shoulder so much responsibility; it made him feel like a useless money-sucking parasite. He hated Chansung for never being physically there for him that he had no one to go to for release except for a hugger. Even worse was that the hugger whom he had later developed affection for, had actually harboured feelings for Chansung.

“I hate you…I freaking hate you…but I love you as much.” 

_I’m sorry, Taesung. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were hurting so much because of me._

* **

 

* * *

 

 

 

 


	8. Game for Two

             [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/23009590@N08/28909907020/in/dateposted-public/)

 

 

The decision to tell Gillian that he no longer require her services as he had found out for himself that his brother had indeed been visiting Hagu’s and that he no longer mind, weighed heavy in his heart. It would mean the end of their cuddling sessions, and Gillian would have lost her source of writing material. Not only that, but to be completely honest with himself, he hated to cut the only string which held both of them together. But then again, what good could come from holding on to a string so fragile?

“If you don’t release it, it’s bound to suffocate to death. I’ll have no choice but to report you for banana homicide,” a voice he knew broke Chansung from his train of thoughts. _What?_ This made him look down. His brother’s gift, a cute wide-eyed banana soft toy keychain which followed wherever his backpack went, looked pitifully distorted wrapped under his fingers, its black beaded eyes popping out. Appalled by the monstrosity, he laughed and let his fingers relax, allowing Mr Banana to return to its original lovable state.

“You’re early,” he said, as he brushed away the fallen leaves to make room for Gillian on the wooden bench he was occupying.

She sat down and pointed out cheerfully, “We both are! In fact, you know, I just realize something. I keep telling myself that I have to be early, I always end up waiting for people. But with you, it’s different. You never keep me waiting.”

A sweet talker would have pounced at the opportunity to deliver this corny line, _“Who could possibly keep such a lovely lady waiting?”_ But Chansung was never a sweet talker. Eyes fixed on the lake; he simply nodded in acknowledgement and said, “Well, you’re right. Two of us are quite a dying breed.”

“Indeed,” she said, “You come here often?”

“Occasionally for a jog, with my brother, which brings me to this...” He began to twiddle with the keychain subconsciously. “I have something to tell you too. But, you go first.”

There was no mistaking her reluctance as she seemed to have frozen all over. “Uh…why don’t you go first?”

“How about we go together?”

“Together?”

“Yeah, on the count of three. 1…2…” On three, both spoke simultaneously, “It’s about my (your) brother.”

“So, you knew about it already?” she asked, not quite sure whether to sound congratulatory or worried.

“Just found out over the weekend. It’s my fault really. I’ve never truly considered his feelings.” Chansung stared forlornly at the yellow fruit in his hands. “I thought I was taking care of him, but I didn’t know I was actually suffocating him.” He had not spoken about this to anyone, not even Junho, neither had he thought he needed to. But somehow, it felt right to share it with her.

“Listen, Chansung, you have to go easier on yourself. Whoever claims they have found the perfect formula to raise children is a liar, or at most, only a philosopher. Go too lax and they will become wild and unruly. Pull the reigns too tight and they will break. It’s easy for anyone to say, but in reality, how are we to know what’s too much and what’s too little? I find my dad overprotective at times, but I understand that he means well, and that’s all that really matters. Your brother will understand eventually.”

“You sure do know how to make someone feel better.” 

“I’m glad I did. I’d hate to watch the musical fountain with a sulky grown man.” Gillian quipped.

“Musical fountain? But the show doesn’t start till eight. You’re planning to stay here till then?”

“Why not? It’s only an hour to go. And correction, _we_ are staying here.”

Chansung was beginning to like her idea. Actually, the vibrant display of lights and music which brought the calm, quiet lake to life was a once yearly affair he would never miss. He had prepared to watch it alone tonight, just like the years before. It seems like his annual ritual of going solo will be thwarted.

Gillian did not wait for him to speak as she had already taken his smile as a sign of agreement. “To while away the time, let’s play a game!” She digged into her jeans pocket and fished out her phone. “I’ve always wanted to try this, but I have no one to do it with me.” She clicked on the app Game for Two, and while it was loading, explained, “It’s kinda like Truth or Dare, but minus the Truth option. The app decides the challenges, and we just have to follow what it says, take a proof picture and upload it.” Chansung raised his eyebrow at the last two words, to which she was quick to add, “The last one’s totally optional.”

“But you seem to be having fun playing it alone,” he pointed out in amusement. The app had had the last picture saved displayed upon finishing buffering, and it showed Gillian standing on a see-saw at its fulcrum so that both of its ends stay in the air.

“Fun? I had to balance a see-saw by myself!” she lamented, and then threw Chansung a piercing glare because he had thrown himself on the grass, guffawing mercilessly.     

When he finally settled down, he gave in. “Ok, what’s the first challenge?”

Eyes sparkling with glee, she read aloud, “Hug a kid.”

“Just to get the rules of the game straight, are you saying that we have to hug one kid between the two of us, at the same time?”

“You got it, Mr Smartypants. Now, let’s go hunt the poor child.” Gillian stood up with a determined look, eyes squinting for prey. She did not need to look far, for there was already a toddler heading their direction at an impressive speed, with her grandparents trailing close behind, both stooping down with their hands outstretched just in case she falls.  “Target locked!”

Their proof picture was taken within seconds once they got the green light from Elsie’s grandparents. Elsie herself was a natural charmer. Not only was she being very obliging for a child by allowing two strangers to sandwich her in the middle without breaking the waterworks, she even surprised Chansung with a peck on the cheek. Gillian was tickled pink with laughter when the grand old dame remarked wittily, “Elsie sure knows a hot guy when she sees one.”

* **

The sight of a gorgeous man being good with kids would set any girl’s heart fluttering, and Gillian’s had been no exception. Her only intention of playing the game had been to cheer him up, for she hated to see his beautiful heart broken. But as they conquered each challenge, she was sure her heart would be the one requiring mending in the long run.

The merciless Cupid struck her another arrow when they took on their fourth challenge: Finish up cotton candy, without using hands. They had no problem taking turns to tear the fluffy sweet from each other’s mouths when it was large. But as the cotton candy shrunk until they were able to feel each other’s breath, her pulse quickened erratically and beads of sweat began to form over her forehead. Seeing his perfectly sculpted features up close was injurious to health, and his calmness only made her more furious at herself for being this affected. _God would have made him too beautiful for a man if not for his redeeming masculine hairline and jawbone._ _His sharp, well defined nose is just killer, not to mention those pair of perfect nostrils…_ Gillian, as if jolted by electricity, jerked quickly away when she felt the tip of his nose brushed against her cheek. He had leaned in and tilted his head to retrieve the remainder of the sweet from her as softly as his lips would allow, completely unaware of the catastrophe he had caused as he seemed more focused on wolfing down the trouble-making piece. _Calm your chicken ass down, it’s just his nose._ She dared not imagine what his lips would have felt like on hers. _I’ll probably explode._

A massive crowd had started gathering around the lake by now, and Pillar Park was growing darker by the minute as the sun began to set, casting a breathtaking view of its reflection on the crystal clear water.

“We have ten minutes left. Want to have a go at at least one last dare?” Chansung asked. He was holding her phone in his hands because Gillian had insisted that the one with the longer arm should be in charge of taking their selfie during the crazy cotton candy challenge.

_How time flies…_ “Ok, go ahead and read the next one.” 

Chansung clicked on the screen, and his jaw visibly dropped in disbelief the second after that. “Let’s just skip this one.”

“But why? Come here, let me read that.” Gillian stretched out her arms to reach for her phone, but he would not allow her to.

Chansung was trying his level best to keep a straight face while defending the device. “It says ‘Kiss a duck’. Where are we going to get a du~”

The tickle tactic had surprisingly worked on him. Gillian was swift to grab the phone when he had to curl up in defence, only to freeze over upon reading the challenge on the screen. _Kiss and fuck? And having to take a proof pic of that?! What kind of perverted app is this? Which bonkers licensed this?_ When the initial shock and embarrassment had died and the hilariousness of the situation began to take over, they laughed their heads off.   

 “That’s sick. You’re absolutely right. No ducks for us, let’s just…” She read the next challenge, “Climb a tree!”

“Come, I know the perfect tree for us.”

* **

Chansung would have suggested climbing this faithful old tree even if the game had not requested them to. This was his secret to-go-to spot when he wanted a better view of the musical fountain show and to be away from the clamouring and shoving of the spectators on the ground. This year, however, the tree had outdone itself. The view was not only better from up here, but memorably magical.

“It’s perfect,” Gillian said breathlessly. Her eyes moistened over in awe at the captivating display of water and light below, which illuminated her in the most surreal way possible. When the tears began to roll down her cheeks, he drew her hand to her face and wiped them gently with his thumb. Gillian’s eyes widened as she turned to face him, looking so fragile and lost, it set Chansung ablaze with a sudden burning desire to pull her close and capture her soft, quivering lips with his.

Just then, Gillian’s phone rang, and his heart sank when he registered that the one calling was Taecyeon. _Taecyeon…Wait…The pompous prick from the basement car park had been him!_

Noticing that she seemed drained and dejected, Chansung asked when the call ended, “What is it? Are you okay?”

“It’s my script. A while back, Taecyeon offered to help me sell it, since he knows people and stuff. He called because it seems like nobody’s interested,” she said dispiritedly. “He said his agent has a proposal, and he was wondering if I’m willing to accept it.” _Isn’t that a good thing?_ Chansung wondered why she looked so depressed when there is hope for a solution.

“What’s his plan?”

“He wants me to ghost-write for him.”

Chansung understood her now. To ghost-write would be to surrender her name, and allowing Taecyeon credit for her work.

“It’s not exactly a bad idea. Many writers have been doing this. He just wants to help me out because he didn’t like the idea of my writing being buried just like that. By having his established name stamped on my script, filming companies are bound to clamour for its rights.”

“Gillian,” he paused to allow himself time to properly piece the words together before speaking up. “I’m not a writer, neither have I read a screenplay, so I’m in no position to talk. But there’s one thing I know, and that is you should never trust anyone but yourself. Have faith in your own work, believe in yourself, and listen to what your heart truly wants.”

 She shook her head and smiled. “You’re right, Chansung. But I’ve got to be realistic about things. What my heart wants won’t get me anywhere. I’m sorry to drag you into this. It’s getting late. Maybe we should go home.”

Although he nodded without a word of protest, deep within him was an unsettling gnawing that Taecyeon was not a man to be trusted, and it frustrated him that he could not lay it down to Gillian any clearer than he already did.  

 

 

* * *

 

I have actually written this story a while back and I'm sorry that it took me only now to post. The game they played is just something I cooked up. Imagine my surprise when there's actually a similar game in a movie called Nerve! (The stakes are very much higher there though, and of course the game is more well-thought).

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter! 

 


	9. Making The Right Choice

             [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/23009590@N08/28909907020/in/dateposted-public/)

 

 

When Gillian returned home, a huge envelope lay on the floor at the entrance, displacing the welcome mat from its territory. She did not need to read the post-it note written by Taecyeon to know that the delivery contained the dreaded contract which would determine the fate of her script.

Careful not to damage the contents, she sliced the envelope open as lightly as she could and sat down on her chair to pore over every line of the miniscule typing. By the last page, Gillian had settled on a decision.

* **

The uneasiness that had bugged Gillian all morning had vanished as soon as Taecyeon’s phone conversation she had overheard by sheer luck came to an end. Likewise, the same could be said for the resounding respect she had for him all these years.

“Yes, yes, of course I’ve read the news…I understand…Definitely! You will not be disappointed with this script; you have my word for it. I’m good at giving the society what it likes to hear. If it frowns upon cuddling services, my story will not spare the huggers any mercy…”

Taecyeon’s expression quickly turned from shock to that of outrage when Gillian made her presence known by purposefully stepping away from the massive marble statue, one amongst a row decorating The Champ’s majestic winding staircase. “How long have you been here?” he asked.

“Long enough to hear plenty.”

“It’s not what you think it is. It’s just business.”

“That’s the whole point. Everything’s just business to you. What do you care about integrity? What do you care about protecting what’s morally right? What do you care about hurting the feelings of a fangirl stupid enough to believe in you?”

Taecyeon rolled his eyes in exasperation before placing both his hands on Gillian’s shoulders. When he spoke, his tone was full of hurt, just like of one being wrongly accused, “If you really think of me that way, I honestly have nothing to say. Here I am, doing my best to help you, and yet, this is the thanks I get?” His words struck a guilt cord so hard, she was beginning to regret the deceitfulness she had served him with.

Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Chansung’s voice, with its richly deep and dark trademark timbre, made a timely interception. “Gillian, you’re here already!” Taecyeon loosened his grip over her shoulders and his face darkened when his eyes fell on the uniformed hotel staff he recognized from the elevator incident. “What on earth?” he muttered heatedly under his breath.

Chansung’s agile feet made clopping sounds as he sprinted down the steps to join them, charging ahead despite knowing fully well he was less than welcomed by Mr Greasy. As his muscled arm pulled Gillian by her waist so that their hips touch, her senses completely hazed over. It was a miracle her auditory function remain preserved when he whispered urgently in her ear, “He’s just pulling the guilt card on you. Do not be deceived.” He turned his attention towards a fuming Taecyeon and flashed him the wide smile that customers normally put on to turn down advancements from adamant salespersons or insurance agents. “I believe Gillian has made her stand clear.”

Taecyeon’s laughter was derisive as he pulled Chansung by the collar threateningly. “You’ve better stay out of this, bellboy,” he snarled. “I’m a very close friend of the owner of this place, so you’d better treat me with some respect if you don’t want to wave your sorry lowly job goodbye.”

 Gillian’s blood curdled with outrage, but to her surprise, Chansung appeared unfazed. Never losing his cool, he encircled Taecyeon’s forearm with the fingers of his right hand and yanked the grip off his collar before twisting the bigger man’s arm. Keeping the crushing hold on his opponent long enough for his face to turn blue from both corporeal pain as well as hurt ego, Chansung hissed back, “I can always get another job. So if you think you can threaten me, think again.” He then flung the reddening arm away in the most badass mode Gillian had seen him in.  

It had never occurred to her that Chansung could be this intimidating, but she was finding this rare side of him enticingly hot. Furthermore, it did not help that his left hand had been stationed strategically at her hip, provoking her arousal physically with or without him realizing. _Ok…this is really bad. Chansung has just burned his bridge to get my back, and here I am, shamefully allowing myself to take on the role of a damsel in distress, and even having impure thoughts about his touch while at it. Get a grip, girl!_

Sensing defeat, Taecyeon said gruffly before turning to leave, “Fine, just don’t come crying on your knees when you regret your decision later.” 

Fuelled courageous by the reassuring look on Chansung’s face, Gillian said determinedly as her eyes locked on his dreamy ones, “We won’t.”

* **

The train that they had jumped into without much thought chugged along the tracks, cutting across the busy city, and within minutes, had crossed the border and transported them into the serenity and simplicity of the countryside. They had taken the seats across from each other, and Gillian was having a hard time not to stare at the Adonis-like human in front of her, not only for his physical attractiveness, but for his calm demeanour as he faced the window, looking at the village scene fleeting by. His actions thus far were far from what she had expected from someone who had just lost his job, the only indication being the uniform he was wearing. His vest had been removed and it sat next to him in a crumple. Chansung had undid the top three buttons of his white shirt and loosened his tie before folding up the sleeves, all of which he did languidly as if he no longer cared to wear it again.

“You’ve been staring at me ever since we got on the train. Am I really that handsome?” his smooth remark caught Gillian unaware, and it made her hope that this carriage had a hole so she could jump into to hide her embarrassment. Chansung smiled before saying, “I’m just joking. I believe you have a lot on your mind that needs to be vented out. I’m all ears actually.”   

_Thank god…_ She sat up straight, laced her fingers together on the table which separated them, and began, “I have a plan, but I’m going to need a favour from you, which was why I called if we could meet up this morning.” She paused to survey the look on Chansung’s face, which displayed zero indication of what could possibly be running through that mind of his. Clasping her fingers tighter together to strengthen her will, she went on, “It sounds crazy, but I want to direct this movie myself. Of course, shooting isn’t going to be a breeze. There’s bound to be production costs involved, human sources, problems with distribution etcetera, which we could worry about later. I…would like you to… take on the role of the male lead.”

Gillian had expected him to frown in disapproval or argue some sense into her. Instead, he had burst into a light-hearted chuckle. _How dare he belittle my dreams!_ She soon realized she had misunderstood him when he finally clarified his actions. “I know you’ll find this hard to believe, but I’ve been having the exact thoughts too! Well, apart from being the actor…”

“Seriously?” She would have pounced on him and smother him with a big hug if it were not for the table between them.

“Yes, it’s true. I already have a few issues sorted out. If it’s equipment you need, I can get those from my father. He used to be an assistant in a production crew, and has a penchant for film-making himself. As for the soundtrack, I know just the man for you. He’s my buddy who’s more interested in making music than taking over his father’s kendo school. What else? Oh yeah, do you need a director of photography? I can always ask my bunkmate, since he owes me a favour anyway…”

“Hold on a second. Do you mean to say you thought of all these just now?”

“If you mean since we got on this train, then yeah.”

Gillian leaned back and threw her arms in the air in defeat. “I am impressed! I haven’t even thought about all that.”

  _Things are beginning to look less bleak already, all thanks to Chansung. Viewers beware. Get ready to have your minds blown! This movie is going to change your perception about huggers._

* **

 

 

 


	10. Epilogue

              [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/23009590@N08/28909907020/in/dateposted-public/)

 

 

Gillian’s first movie, _Huggers_ had been a phenomenal hit upon its release on Youtube, and it had been lauded for its raw and truthful take on the cuddling industry, tackling both the good and the bad. The general population’s perception on huggers had improved considerably, and Gillian was glad her story had been successful in paving the way for acceptance.

Another beauty of it was that everyone involved in its production had willingly contributed their time and effort without demanding payment, but each one of them had benefited in other forms.

Wooyoung, who had been tired of juggling his main job at The Champs with his part-time one as an assistant photographer which had paid peanuts, had finally found confidence in his own skill after the praises that had poured in regarding his brilliant cinematography. Thus, he decided to leave both his employers to work behind the lens on commission. He was still in contact with his ex-bunkmate, and the last time Chansung had heard from him, he was doing pretty terrific on his own.

Hyo Seong, whom Gillian had handpicked to star as the female lead, had garnered a substantial fan base of her own and had become one of the most sought after huggers in the industry. This of course translated into roaring business for Hagu’s. Regarding her interest for Chansung, it had never wavered till this day. It did not matter if his heart was already taken, she would forever have him in hers.   

Chansung’s father, whose passion for his job had been rekindled from helping out on set, had applied for a chance to return to his former production crew. He was still occasionally battling with his inner demons to drink, but with both his sons’ encouragement and support, he was gradually making good progress with his ability to take control.  

Junho, who did such a fantastic job with the soundtrack, had been scouted and roped in by a highly successful talent agency for his musical prowess, and would soon launch an album. No doubt, his father was heartbroken by the news, but he was beginning to accept that his son’s true calling was making music all along. Furthermore, he already had his eyes set on another prospective heir to his kendo school, and that promising someone is his son’s best friend, Chansung. The handsome lad had just quit his job and Junho had asked him if he could temporarily help out at the school in between filming, to which he had agreed. He caught the young man practising kendo, sometimes Taekwondo, by the backyard on his own, and his swift and steady movements had captured his attention. This is a man with massive potential, he thought. And he was right. Chansung had shown tremendous improvement in the art of sword wielding within the short span of time that the old man had taken him under his wing, surpassing even most of the students whom he had been teaching for years.

  * **

A strange sensation, guiltily delicious, stirred within her core as she submerged herself fully into character. It rippled all the way down to her thighs, making her hunger for a certain someone’s touch. The pressure which had accumulated between her thighs throbbed pleadingly to be released as the writing grew steamier by each line. By the time she had reached the conclusion of the stimulating material, her sensitive nether region was close to bursting and her labia were moist. This was not Gillian’s first experience with soft porn, but reading erotic fan fiction in which Chansung starred in, which had mushroomed at an alarming rate ever since he made viewers swoon over him in Huggers, was definitely new to her. It affected her feelings differently, and her body was being more responsive than she had liked.

“I love seeing your face like this,” a hoarse voice whispered in her ear from behind, sending shivers down her spine. Her fiancé had sneaked in from her back and rested his chin on her shoulder casually. “What could you possibly be reading to get so aroused?” Chansung asked inquisitively.

Gillian instantly shut the lid of her laptop, blushing furiously as she tried to worm her way out from the truth, “Who said I was aroused?”    

She could feel his warm breath caressing her neck as he snickered at her obvious lie, “I thought I heard a very sexy moan escape from those lips of yours.”

_Holy shit…Did I? Darn it, fictional Chansung, it’s all your fault._

The tip of her tongue glided nervously across her lower lip as she wrecked her brain to plan her escape, but it seemed like her action only made matters worse. His gorgeous caramel brown eyes had dilated and they were boring into hers with an intensity which matched his carnal appetite. It reminded her of a predator’s just about to pounce on its delectable prey.

“You must’ve heard wrongly,” she mumbled. “It’s probably from our neighbour…” Her voice caught midway in her throat and she lost all ability to speak when Chansung laid a finger on her lips to hush her.

“Shh…” His eyes narrowed alluringly, not breaking contact as he asked in amusement, “Oh, really? Why don’t we find out now?” His words made her heart pound so heavily in her chest; she feared that she would taste death very soon, but she was wrong. Chansung had swoop in when she had let her guard down, angled his neck and steadied the nape of her neck with a gentle hand before planting a quick kiss on her trembling lips. It had not tasted anything like death, but the feel of his sensual full lips, however brief it had been, had triggered her arousal back on, causing her to crave for his touch even more.  

She stood up from her chair and turned to face him fully before resting her arms on his broad shoulders. “You can’t make me,” she dared him boldly, not sure where she mustered the foolish courage from.  She soon realized it was a mistake to goad a man whose bulge was growing evidently beneath the fabric of his trousers because Chansung had pulled her in for another kiss, this time impatiently rough and hot with unchained lust, sending her desire for him over the edge. _Oh, what have I gotten myself into?_ Gillian gave up resisting and reciprocated with equal ferocity. With their lips still locked, his hand slid down the concavity between her shoulder blades and lingered at her lower back. Without warning, he drew her pelvis close to his so that their bodies were glued together. The feel of her breast against his lower chest and their groins touching with just a few layers of insubstantial cloth in between must have had excited Chansung as much it did for her because she could feel his member hardening under the restrains of his boxer briefs. Gillian’s knees grew weak and buckled over, and she was glad she had Chansung to lean on for support before the bed took over.

“I will, and I’ll do that by kissing a duck,” he said sultrily. This made Gillian cackle with laughter. “No, you won’t be _ducking_ anyone today.” With her body slumped on the bed and Chansung nailing her down, she doubted if she could defend her fort for long. She did not protest when he slowly lifted up her blouse to reveal her smooth, concave belly. He then bent his head down, and began blowing soft kisses from her navel down to the waistband of her panty, causing her to simultaneously arch her head back and hips forward from the onslaught of delightful sensations he had incited within her. “But your body language says otherwise,” he smirked. _Damn you, how are you so good at this? Just shut up and do it already!_ She tugged at his shirt impatiently so that the hem came loose from the confines of his trouser girdle, causing Chansung to furrow in mild surprise, “I never knew you’re the feisty type.” “And I never knew you can actually talk so much,” she retorted with a grin.

Smiling and maintaining his silence as if testing her patience, he unbuttoned his shirt slowly in the most provocative manner. Seeing him peeling off the piece of clothing to reveal his exquisitely muscular chest and chiselled abs elevated her sexual frustration to an all new height. She thrust her body forwards for a deep passionate kiss and when her eyes opened to see the reflection of Chansung’s exposed back on the mirror, his huge scar caught her attention. She traced the healed wound lightly with her fingers, feeling the muscles underneath tensing. “Who did this to you?” she asked breathlessly. His gaze was deep and penetrating when he asked, “Don’t you remember?”

 

 

_Chansung had always been one of the first to finish showering after PE. He slung his bag of sweat-soaked T-shirt and sports shoes across his shoulder and made his way out towards the corridor to wait for the rest. The sound of girls chattering noisily away interspersed with high pitched giggles while the water splashed permeated through the wall of the female bath area. It made his groin tingle at the thought of his crush being amongst them. Before his imagination begin to wander and had a chance to take the better of him, he distracted himself by thinking of what he should eat for lunch as he walked briskly away._

_Just as he cornered a bend, he caught a suspicious looking group of boys, all huddled together surrounding a chair, clawing at each others’ backs to sneak a peek through a hole high up on the wall. Getting closer, he could hear one of them saying, “I’d do her for sure.” Another voice added with a snigger while thrusting his hips obscenely, “I bet you that whore would be experienced from all the grinding and whatnot she learned from Hagu’s.” These filthy morons! Chansung clenched his fist and tapped the one with the big mouth on the shoulder. “First, step away from the wall and leave the girls alone. Second, stop spreading lies. And third, don’t you dare call her a whore, Damien,” he warned through gritted teeth. He had caught the attention of all seven of them, and they looked pissed except for Damien who laughed mockingly, “Oh, look who we have here. Aren’t you that loner who has a temper of an ox? You don’t look very threatening, though.” He shoved Chansung roughly, forcing him to make a step backwards to prevent himself from falling. “So what if I do? Are you going to hit me? I can make her dirty little mouth suck my dick and you won’t be able to do anything about it.” Chansung winced as Damien’s fist landed hard on his face, sending his glasses flying through the air. The lens shattered audibly upon contact with the cement floor. He wanted to punch him back then, but held back. Noticing this, Damien smirked, “You wouldn’t dare, would you? Just because you’re a champ in the Taekwondo ring doesn’t make you an instant hero. In there, you fight one on one. Out here, you’re all alone against seven of us, and you know you don’t stand a chance. So why don’t you just fuck off and leave us to jack off on her wet pussy.” Another blow came flying, but this time, he managed to dodge it. His glare was full of defiance as he said coolly, “You’d do no such thing, as long as I’m around.”_

_The fight had happened in a flash and Chansung was the only one left standing by the end. The back of his shirt however, was ripped and soaked with fresh blood from the long, deep gash made by the cowardly Damien with his swiss army knife when he was distracted with the others. A small crowd had gathered, mostly made out of the girls who had rushed out from their shower upon hearing the commotion, and they all wore the look of fear as if a savage beast had been let loose from its cage, and that frightening beast was him. Gillian looked scared as well and her complexion had turned deathly pale, but unlike the others who dared not approach him, she stumbled over to his side before applying pressure over the wound with her spare towel. Her hands were steady and firm, but the rest of her was trembling, as if she had focused all of her energy in suppressing the flow of blood while still in a state of shock._

_Chansung, along with the rest who were severely bruised and battered, was soon dragged by their disgruntled discipline teacher away from the crowd, and that was the last he had seen of her because he had not returned to school after his discharge from the hospital. As far as he had known, nobody at school knew the true story of why he had attacked, because the badly beaten group of bullies had no guts to admit their dishonourable deeds._

 

The memory had slowly unravelled. Gillian could now recall the grotesque looking bloodied towel in her hands and the unbearable smell of iron. Her head had felt giddy and her body shivered from the cold before her vision turned blurry. She must have had passed out afterwards and kept the terrifying memory repressed all these years.

“You fought for me? And you left school because of that?” she asked, feeling terribly guilty.

“Not exactly. That fight had only been the trigger. I’ve been longing to quit school for months to work and earn money for my family, and I found the perfect excuse to on that day.”

“You silly baboon,” she scolded, eyes shiny with tears. “Why are you always sacrificing for others, when you should be living for yourself?”    

The corners of his lips rose as he gazed deeply into her eyes, “Some people are worth the sacrifice.”

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~ The End ~

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 Thank you! All comments are welcomed!


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